


It Feels Better Biting Down

by ionsquare



Series: We Got The Glow In Our Mouths [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Biting, Blood Kink, Blow Jobs, Crossdressing Kink, Developing Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Original Character(s), Panties, Porn with Feelings, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-24
Updated: 2013-11-24
Packaged: 2018-01-02 12:56:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1057026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ionsquare/pseuds/ionsquare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott loves that new panty smell, especially on Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Feels Better Biting Down

**Author's Note:**

> FEELINGS OKAY. I added the 'Developing Relationship' tag because the boys have feelings, for each other, and of course porn happens. Also 'Blood Kink' tag because some of the kisses get away from them, and I dig a little blood kink/play. ;) 
> 
> If you're curious about the featured panties this go around: [one](http://www.victoriassecret.com/panties/cheekies-and-cheekinis/the-date-mini-cheekster-pink?ProductID=108252&CatalogueType=OLS), [two](http://www.victoriassecret.com/panties/the-new-lacie/hiphugger-panty-the-lacie?ProductID=150913&CatalogueType=OLS) (4th box in blue), [three](http://www.victoriassecret.com/panties/cheekies-and-cheekinis/lace-cheeky-panty-very-sexy?ProductID=150982&CatalogueType=OLS) (in black).
> 
> Title from _Biting Down_ by Lorde.

Stiles has been staring at a table of panties for at least twenty minutes, and it’s the first time he can’t make a decision. Also, Victoria’s Secret is having a sale, so he gets to kill three birds with one stone, or something.

“Maybe I should’ve brought Scott along again,” Stiles mumbles to himself, fingering a silky pair of cheekies.

“May I help you?” A curious voice says behind him.

Stiles turns around with a stumble, almost upending the display in the center of the table.

The girl watches him curiously, crossing her arms with a smile, head tilted as she studies him.

“You always come in here at the beginning of the month. Is your girlfriend enjoying all the panties you’re buying for her?”

Stiles swallows, back of his neck sweating.

“I, uh, yeah! Yeah she -- She loves them. All of them,” Stiles stutters out, wincing with a smile. “You… you remember me?”

“Oh yeah, you have good taste in panties.”

“Thank you?”

“But you don’t have a girlfriend.”

And the cool, easy conversation is gone, now replaced with hot embarrassment as Stiles blushes furiously.

“I remember you from school,” she says, “you were a freshman and I was a senior. I’m Lindsay.”

She doesn’t look familiar to Stiles at all, but Beacon Hills is a pretty big town. But now that he gets a closer look at her she _does_  look familiar for another reason.

“You were the sales clerk who sold me my first pair,” Stiles says, pointing a finger at her and then holding out his hand. “Stiles. Stiles Stilinski.”

“Don’t worry, I know.” Lindsay grins, shaking his hand. “Come on, follow me.”

Lindsay points out a few selection of panties for Stiles, offering her opinions about each, and it actually helps Stiles to narrow down his choices. She mentions the three for $33 sale going on this month, and shows Stiles the new Lacie selection (“The hiphuggers are really popular,” she says), and Stiles can’t deny his excitement at wanting a pair, grabbing a blue polka dot pair.

“Can I offer some feminine advice?”

“Sure, yeah,” Stiles says offhandedly, distracted by a rack of cheekies.

“You should have one pair of simple, black panties, because black is sexy, and that’s what panties do, they make you feel sexy, right?”

“Totally,” Stiles chuckles, still distracted.

“Also, try to have a few pairs that compliment your skin color, and accentuate certain body parts. You have a nice, round butt, so the cheekies are definitely for you. You also have slim, narrow hips, so maybe a few thongs or hiphuggers.”

The color drains from Stiles’ face, hands shaking, his brain finally catching up with the conversation that he _hasn’t_  been paying attention to until now.

“But these -- I don’t -- I mean--”

“Stiles, I don’t care if you wear panties. Have a fucking ball. You’re in here all the time and I’m curious by nature, and I finally wanted to offer some friendly advice.” Lindsay offers a reassuring smile. “Your secret is safe with me.”

Stiles nods, nerves beginning to settle.

“Thank you,” Stiles says quietly.

“Want to try that pair of hiphuggers on?” Lindsay smirks. “I’ll even tell you which fitting room to use where _no one_  up front will see you.”

Ten minutes later Stiles is flaunting his ass in the floor length mirrors of the fitting room. _God_ , he really wishes that Scott were here, sliding a hand over his ass trying to imagine it’s Scott’s. Stiles’ eyes shut, reaching down to cup his dick, groaning because he’s already hard. Suddenly his phone vibrates, pulling it out of the pocket of his jeans.

**To Stiles:**  
 _WHERE R U?!?! ‘Posed to be having some brotime today._

**To Scott:**  
 _At Vicky’s trying on panties. Thinkin’ bout you._

The next text doesn’t come for a few minutes, Stiles smirking when he reads it.

**To Stiles:**  
 _Come over. Bring them. Already jerking off._

**To Stiles:**  
 _Shit can u wear a pair out?!?? DO IT PLZ. Want u ready._

Stiles grins, biting down on his lower lip. He loves how much Scott _loves_  his panties, and loves getting off on Stiles wearing them. Stiles still wears his typical boxers, and the occasional briefs, mostly to keep up appearances around his dad, but if Stiles could, he’d wear panties all the time. For Scott. He _wants_  to.

When Stiles approaches the register, Lindsay’s there waiting with a smile.

“You only have two pairs,” Lindsay states, “you need three for the three for $33.”

“I’m, uh,” Stiles blushes, “wearing a pair?” He puts the price tag on the counter.

Lindsay’s eyes widen, and then she smirks knowingly.

“Which one are you wearing?”

“The -- The cheekster? Pink with green trim.”

“Oh yeah he’ll _totally_  like that one,” Lindsay laughs, ringing Stiles up. “That’ll be $34.85. Hey, did you want a rewards card? You shop here enough why not get rewards?”

“If I wasn’t living at home, and if my dad wasn’t the _sheriff_ , I definitely would. Thanks anyway.”

And then Stiles catches what Lindsay said.

“Wait, did you say _he’ll_  totally like that one?”

“Please,” Lindsay scoffs, putting everything in a bright pink bag. “The last time he was in here with you I thought you guys were going to fuck in the fitting room.”

Stiles splutters, covering his face with his hands.

“And if you ever do fuck in here, I’m banning you. Have a nice day!”

*

Stiles pulls in Scott’s driveway, twirling his keys on a finger, and he doesn’t even get to knock on the door before it swings open, Scott tugging him inside roughly.

“Fuck, Stiles, I can _smell you_  and smell them.” Scott bites at Stiles’ mouth, sucking Stiles’ lower lip in his mouth kissing him hard.

Stiles shudders, panting fast and harsh, fingers wrenching and tugging at Scott’s jeans.

Scott’s fingers are working open Stiles’ jeans too, still kissing him hard, with a little bit of bite behind it.

“What’re you gonna do when you see them?” Stiles murmurs against Scott’s mouth, shoving a hand inside Scott’s pants, rubbing his dick.

“Whatever I want, right?” Scott rocks into Stiles’ hand, working Stiles’ pants off his hips, fingers sliding over lace. “Want my tongue in you, Stiles?” He lets Stiles’ pants drop down around his ankles, rubbing his palm on Stiles’ dick. “Want me to blow you? Fuck you?” His mouth kisses behind Stiles’ ear, sucking a bruise there on his neck.

“Fuck,” Stiles gasps, fingers squeezing on Scott’s dick. “I wanna ride you. Wanna fuck myself on you and watch you get off on me wearing panties for you.”

Scott groans, nodding.

“Yeah, fuck. Yes. Okay. Stay here, let me just -- Stay here.”

Stiles gets undressed right in the middle of Scott’s living room, leaving the panties on, already leaking and he’s not even surprised. Most of his panties smell like his come and Scott anyway.

“Pink looks good on you,” Scott says from behind Stiles, and Stiles sees that he has lube and a condom. Stiles smiles, licking his lips.

“How’s my ass look?” Stiles asks huskily, turning around so Scott can get a good view.

“Bend over a little…  _yeah_. Like that.”

Scott walks up to Stiles, cupping one ass cheek, smacking it hard making Stiles jerk forward.

“Your mom home anytime soon?”

“Just us for the rest of the day, and the night, if you want to stay.”

Stiles turns around pressing up against Scott, taking his face in his hands, kissing him slow at first until Scott squeezes his ass, kissing him deeper.

“I want to stay,” Stiles whispers.

Scott grins, forehead resting to Stiles’.

“Good, because I’m not sure I’d let you leave.”

“Okay, enough talk,” Stiles says, “and you’re wearing too many clothes.” Stiles lifts Scott’s shirt over his head, taking a moment to lick a wet stripe up Scott’s neck.

Scott’s hackles begin to rise but he settles, taking a deep breath in and out, baring his throat for Stiles’ mouth, swallowing hard.

“Can I?” Stiles breathes in Scott’s ear, and then kissing his shoulder.

Scott only nods, making a soft, pleasurable noise when Stiles bites his throat. He knows Stiles wants to leave his mark on him, and he knows Stiles will always be disappointed that he can’t, but Scott knows it’s there. He’ll always feel his mark.

Stiles’ eyelids flutter as he sucks and bites, fingers tugging open Scott’s pants, and Scott helps to push them down with him.

Scott starts to growl, gripping the back of Stiles’ neck, stumbling a little to kick away his pants.

Stiles gets carried away, though, and he tastes blood on his tongue, mouth coming away with a wet _pop_  of suction.

“I didn’t--”

Scott cuts him off with a hard kiss, tongue licking at the blood on Stiles’ tongue, kissing the corner of his mouth.

“C’mere,” Scott whispers, pulling Stiles with him to the couch.

They fall down in a heap and tangle of limbs, rearranging themselves until Stiles gets himself on Scott’s lap, their dicks sliding together making them both groan. Stiles sees that Scott’s clutching the small bottle of lube and condom in his hand, laughing softly.

“What? Oh,” Scott laughs, throwing them aside, but still within reach.

Stiles turns Scott’s head to the side, and he’s looking at the bruise on Scott’s neck, pressing a thumb on it making Scott hiss.

“How are you -- Shouldn’t you be healing?”

“It will soon enough. I wanted you to enjoy it for a little while.”

The red-purple looks fucking gorgeous against Scott’s skin tone, and Stiles licks his lips, remembering the taste of Scott’s skin, the blood surging to the surface with every hard suck of his mouth, his teeth scratching over the bruise, remembering the way Scott shuddered. He leans in placing a kiss there, cupping Scott’s face in his hands, inhaling through his nose as he kisses him deeply, exhaling across Scott’s mouth, smiling.

Scott rubs his palms over Stiles’ hips, palms getting warm each time they slide along the lacy material of Stiles’ new panties. He doesn’t like the new smell each time Stiles buys a new pair, but that’s why Stiles comes to Scott, wants Scott to make him come, rub his scent on them.

“New panty smell getting to your sensitive nose?” Stiles smirks.

“Shut up,” Scott mumbles.

“They’ll smell like you, _us_ , eventually,” Stiles says against his mouth, pecking his lips with sweet, teasing kisses.

“ _You_  smell like me,” Scott says, leaning forward a little to kiss Stiles, slotting their mouths. His hands slide up and down the small of Stiles’ back, moving down lower, lower until his hands are squeezing the firm flesh of Stiles’ ass.

Stiles sighs against Scott’s mouth, pushing back into Scott’s hands, wiggling around.

“I want us to be exclusive,” Scott blurts out, meeting Stiles’ startled look, trying to gauge his reaction. “When you… smell different. It bothers me.”

“Is this you wanting to be exclusive or the alpha you?”

It’s a fair question, and Scott glances away for a moment before looking back at Stiles, who looks sure that Scott’s going to say the wrong thing, but he cups Stiles’ face, smiling slowly.

“This is definitely _me_.” Scott kisses him gently. “Wanting to be exclusive. Is that okay?”

Stiles’ heart feels like it might burst from his chest, and he knows Scott can hear it, wrapping his arms around Scott, burying his face in his neck trying not to hurt his face with how hard he’s smiling.

Scott laughs, squeezing his arms around Stiles, nipping his shoulder.

“Where did this come from?”

“I don’t know.” Scott shrugs, hands resting on Stiles’ hips again. “I don’t want you… being like this with anyone else. I don’t want someone else seeing you in panties, or seeing you naked, or…” Scott takes a deep breath, “kissing you.”

“I’ve never seen you possessive like this.” Stiles bites his lip, rolling his hips into Scott’s. “I kind of like it. A lot.”

Scott reaches up, touching Stiles’ mouth, pressing his thumb down hard on the corner, letting Stiles bite down, pulling him forward, attacking his mouth. His hands find their way back to Stiles’ ass, kneading the flesh under his palms, fingers gripping hard until Stiles whimpers.

“Turn around on my lap,” Scott whispers.

Stiles pants, catching his breath, standing up slowly.

“Wait.” Scott holds up a hand, staring at the hard line of Stiles’ cock beneath the lace. He smacks Stiles’ hand away when he tries to touch himself, still drinking in the sight of him, watching as Stiles squats a little, the head of his cock pushing past the waistband when he straightens back up.

“If you _ever_  do this for anyone else I’m going to rip their face off.”

Stiles grins, licking his lips.

“Okay, sit back down. Back to me,” Scott instructs.

“What’re we -- What are you going to do?” Stiles says, looking over his shoulder. He leans back into Scott, spreading his legs, toes curling into the carpet.

“I’m going to jerk you off for a little bit,” Scott says, sliding a hand inside Stiles’ panties. He cups him in his hand, palm rubbing on his dick, and he can feel Stiles thickening, thrusting into his hand.

Stiles bites Scott’s jaw, mewling when Scott begins stroking.

“And then I’m going to let you finger yourself, get you loose for my dick,” Scott growls out. “You going to ride me hard, Stiles?”

Stiles nods.

“Yeah… yeah, fuck me good and deep, Scott…”

“Don’t worry, I will.” Scott pecks him on the cheek. “Always will.”

Stiles watches Scott’s hand stroke him, fingers circling around the head, and Scott’s fingers are already wet with precome. The panties start to bunch uncomfortably behind his balls, but Stiles doesn’t care, just opens his legs wider, fucking into Scott’s hand.

“Don’t come yet,” Scott says.

“Mmkay,” Stiles groans, bringing a hand up to grip the back of the couch.

Scott likes the way Stiles is stretched out, hips steadily undulating, his hand shoved inside Stiles’ lacy panties, and god, it’s like a fucking dream come true.

“Ready to finger yourself for me?”

“Yeah,” Stiles cries out. “Yeah, lemme… lemme do it…”

“Put two fingers in, can you do that?”

“ _Fuck_ , Scott,” Stiles whines, nodding jerkily. “Yes, yes.”

Scott winces a little as Stiles’ ass continues to grind against his own hard, aching dick.

“I can feel you,” Stiles murmurs, kissing Scott’s cheek.

Scott kisses across Stiles’ shoulder, watching his hand, trapped against lace and Stiles’ hot skin, fist his cock.

“Oh, _oh_ ,” Stiles whines, “give me… lube…”

Scott turns his head looking for the lube, finds it shoved between the couch cushions, pushing the bottle into Stiles’ hands.

“Gotta stop for a few,” Stiles pants open-mouthed against Scott’s cheek.

Stiles gets his panties pushed down around his knees, prepping two fingers, getting the lube warm, propping a foot on the coffee table. When he finally pushes his fingers inside he almost comes, but Scott’s right there with a firm grip on his cock, making sure he doesn’t.

“You gonna fuck yourself for me?” Scott whispers in Stiles’ ear.

And god, Stiles is going to fucking lose it if Scott doesn’t stop, but he doesn’t want him to stop. Who knew he’d get off on his best friend bossing him around when this all started? But Stiles does, and he sits, slumped on Scott’s lap, sweating a little, wrist cramping as he tries to finger himself as deep as he can reach. The angle isn’t the best, but it’s enough to help Stiles get off, Scott’s warm words of encouragement helping him along.

“I can hear how wet you are.” Scott bites Stiles’ earlobe. “Bet you wish it was my dick inside you, right?” Scott gives Stiles’ cock a firm squeeze. “You better not come, Stiles.”

Stiles arches his back, head lolling around on Scott’s shoulder, whining and mewling each time Scott gives his cock a squeeze, refusing Stiles the release he desperately needs right now.

“Scott, _Scott_ ,” Stiles pants, propping his other foot on the table, adding one more finger and the stretch burns, and pretty soon it’ll be Scott’s dick stretching him open.

“Keep going, Stiles,” Scott coaxes, sucking gently on Stiles’ neck.

Stiles cries out, the contrast of Scott’s gentle mouth with his own fingers as he fucks himself open, it’s starting to become too much.

Scott grabs the lube, squirting a little on Stiles’ dick, and Stiles’ fingers. It’s wet and messy, just the way Scott likes it, if he’s being honest. The wet noises Stiles’ fingers make as they sink inside his ass make Scott’s mouth water, wanting to get his tongue inside Stiles, licking him open until he’s crying from it.

“Want me to fuck you, Stiles?”

Scott keeps stroking Stiles, slowly now, fingers slippery with lube.

“Uh huh,” Stiles breathes out, nodding wordlessly. “Mmhm.”

Scott let’s go of Stiles’ dick, letting it hit Stiles’ belly with a wet slap, groaning right in Stiles’ ear when he uses his hearing to zero in on Stiles pulling his fingers out. He can tell they’re stiff, shiny with lube. Scott kisses the inside of Stiles’ wrist.

“Face me,” Scott says.

Stiles stands up very slowly. His entire body feels like jelly, knees wobbling and nearly giving out as he turns around, letting Scott put his panties back on his hips. Scott spends a few minutes sliding his hands along the backs of Stiles’ thighs, his ass, his hips, and Stiles has never felt sexier. He curls a hand in Scott’s hair as Scott nuzzles the hair on his belly.

“Want me to leave them on?” Stiles asks huskily.

Scott only nods, pulling Stiles back down on his lap, who reaches for the lube.

“Can I?” Stiles asks, flipping the cap, already squirting some in his hand.

“Yeah,” Scott says, bringing Stiles closer.

Stiles presses up against Scott, his cock trapped between his belly and Scott’s, leaning back far enough to stroke Scott’s cock.

Scott’s eyes flutter shut, groaning when he feels Stiles’ cock moving along the planes of his abdomen, feeling precome dribble from the tip.

“C’mon, Stiles,” Scott hisses, trying to thrust, but Stiles bears down stopping him.

Stiles ignores Scott as he continues to stroke him harder, wrist cramping the way he has to bend back, but it’s worth it to see Scott like this, to have a little bit of control.

“Wanna bury your cock inside me?” Stiles kisses Scott’s forehead, grinning when he feels Scott’s hands grabbing hold of his ass.

“ _Stiles_ \--”

“Condom.”

Scott growls, looking around them until he finds it, tearing it open with his teeth.

Stiles has to lift up and press even closer to Scott, and he can feel Scott panting open-mouthed across the center of his abdomen as he blindly rolls the condom on. Only when he feels Scott tap the back of his thigh does Stiles reposition himself, pulling his panties aside with one hand, lowering down slowly as Scott pushes in.

They both groan at the same time when Scott bottoms out, Stiles fully seated. Stiles revels in the full feeling of Scott’s cock buried inside him, moving his hips in a teasing, circular motion.

“ _Fuck_ , Stiles, the way you take me all the way,” Scott moans, watching Stiles’ hips move.

Stiles leans in kissing Scott, teeth biting into his lower lip. He keeps biting down until Scott yanks back a little, and Stiles can taste the copper on his tongue, can see the tiny nick already healing.

Scott’s eyes bleed red, bright and determined, fingers digging in hard on Stiles’ hips as he fucks up into him. Stiles only bears down harder, rocking back and forth to find a rhythm, and Scott can only watch, enthralled. His hands touch every bit of Stiles he can reach, but he finds his way back to the panties, the way the lace cuts into Stiles’ skin, pulling over his hips, stretching around his cock.

Stiles rocks himself into a fast rhythm, and fuck, _fuck_ , Scott feels so good on each thrust. He licks his lips, moaning when Scott’s hand brushes across his cock.

“So good, Stiles, _so good_.”

Scott pulls Stiles down for a kiss, tongues hot and clumsy. Scott starts fucking up into Stiles harder now, the tight clench of Stiles’ body finally getting to him, slapping Stiles on the ass so he’ll move faster.

Stiles whimpers at the stinging slap on his ass, bouncing harder on Scott’s cock, not holding back as he moans.

“Do it again,” Stiles begs.

Scott stares up at Stiles, bringing his hand down harder.

“Again, _again_.” Stiles shudders, eyelids fluttering closed.

Scott complies, and each slap makes Stiles bounce faster.

Stiles can feel the panties getting in the way, reaching back to hold them open, Scott’s dick unrelenting as he hits perfectly now on each thrust.

“M’close, Scott. So fucking close, gotta touch me.”

Scott’s fingers tug down the panties to get at Stiles’ cock, freely leaking come, and Scott moans because, _fuck_ , he’s making Stiles do this. His fingers wrap loosely around Stiles’ cock, stroking him quickly.

Stiles is going to lose his mind any moment now. He’s not sure which is better right now, Scott deep inside him, or Scott’s hand stroking his cock so that he’s even harder. He has to reach forward to grip the back of the couch, rocking down on each thrust Scott gives him, slowing down a few minutes to enjoy the feel of Scott’s hand.

“Gonna come for me, Stiles?”

Stiles whines, nodding, breathing heavily. He doesn’t need any more coaxing than that, stuttering out a moan as he comes, Scott’s hands anchoring him, one sliding up and down his chest while the other milks every drop of come from his spent dick.

“God _damn_ ,” Stiles groans, dick still twitching in Scott’s hand.

Scott’s still buried deep inside Stiles, pulsing and aching with the overbearing need to come.

Stiles starts moving again, circling his hips.

“You close?” Stiles murmurs.

Scott’s mouth goes slack, head lolling back against the couch. His hand keeps stroking Stiles’ cock even though his movements are slow.

“Feel so good inside me.” Stiles takes Scott’s hands, putting them on his hips. “Wore these out of the store, just for you.”

Scott moans, fingers curling on the waistband of Stiles’ panties.

“Wanna come in your mouth.” Scott reaches up touching Stiles’ lips, watching him draw his thumb into his mouth.

Stiles curls his tongue around Scott’s thumb, lips moving back and forth slowly, drawing out a moan as he keeps grinding his hips down into Scott’s.

Scott growls, past the point of impatient, tugging Stiles close for a bruising kiss, his thumb sliding wetly past Stiles’ lips. Scott huffs against Stiles mouth, snapping at Stiles playfully when he nips Scott’s chin.

Stiles stops moving now, sitting up on his knees, groaning at the loss of Scott’s cock buried deep inside him.

“I left the bag in my Jeep,” Stiles says, standing up carefully, come trickling down the inside of his thighs. “But later, I’m putting on another pair.” He kneels between Scott’s legs, taking his time with the condom so it won’t break. “And you’re going to fuck me again.” Stiles doesn’t waste any more time, licking the dark vein running along Scott’s dick, swallowing him fast and sucking eagerly.

“Jesus Christ, Stiles,” Scott moans, hips jerking. “Fuck, I’m so close, don’t stop.”

Scott drowns out everything else, focusing his hearing on the wet sound of Stiles’ mouth. He can hear the click of his throat and the soft swallow Stiles makes, barely audible to others, but to Scott it’s loud, and now Stiles is slowly deepthroating his cock. He can’t really see Stiles’ face, but he can hear all of it, and Scott is panting heavily, sweat beading across his forehead.

“Stiles,” Scott slurs, voice drowsy with pleasure. “Stiles, m’gonna--”

Stiles doesn’t stop, waiting for the first taste, and when it happens he starts to pull back, tongue hanging out to catch Scott’s come. He’s panting himself, licking his lips after he swallows, smirking up at Scott.

“You’re a menace,” Scott whispers, tugging on Stiles’ hair.

Stiles bumps his head into Scott’s head, crawling back on Scott’s lap, peppering kisses along his jawline.

“I’m fucking spent,” Scott says.

“I’m hungry,” Stiles mumbles, laughing.

When they’ve caught their breath, and can actually move, Scott tugs his pants back on, and Stiles prances around in his panties.

“What if my mom happens to come home?”

“Oh please, you’d hear her, no problem.”

They make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and Stiles sits on the counter while Scott stands between his legs; it’s nice, it’s comfortable.

“Milk?” Stiles asks, licking jelly off his hand.

Scott pours each of them a glass, handing one to Stiles with a smile.

“So, we’re exclusive,” Stiles says.

Scott downs his milk quickly, wincing slightly when he swallows wrong, trying to not look too horrified at Stiles.

“You’re not taking it back are you?”

“I’m not taking it back.” Scott steps back between Stiles’ legs, rubbing his hands up and down Stiles’ thighs. “I want this,” he says, smiling.

Stiles looks at Scott for a long time, and right now he wants to have Scott’s super hearing. He wants to be able to hear his heartbeat, wants to know that Scott isn’t apprehensive about this, about _them_ , wants to hear the truth in Scott’s heart the way Scott can hear it in his.

“I want you,” Stiles says eventually, eyes flicking back to Scott’s face. “I want _all_  of you. Don’t hold back. I know you hold back, but you can’t break me.”

“I actually can break you--”

“But you won’t.” Stiles wraps his arms around Scott’s neck, grateful to feel Scott’s arms sliding around his waist, hands resting against his lower back. “I like you, wild side and all.”

Scott buries his face in Stiles’ neck, murmuring happily, tightening his arms around Stiles.

“I didn’t mean to get all mushy on you, dude.”

“Shut up, Stiles,” Scott laughs, pressing a kiss on Stiles’ mouth.

It’s so easy the way they fall into it, desperate and wanting, mouths slotting together, nipping and tasting. Scott likes the way Stiles sighs into it, lips parting, kissing harder. Stiles likes the little growl Scott makes when nips or sucks on his tongue.

“Mmn,” Stiles hums happily, “I like kissing you.” He wraps his legs around Scott, feet digging on Scott’s ass.

Scott grunts, biting down on Stiles’ lower lip, fingers tickling across the lacy panties, itching for the feel of Stiles’ skin.

“You, uh, have more in your Jeep?” Scott asks.

Stiles smiles at the sex drunk look on Scott’s face, nodding his head yes.

“Meet you in my room?”

“You better move fast.” Stiles slides off the counter, pressing up against Scott, skin warm against his own cool body. “I’m ready for round two.”

Scott gives Stiles’ ass a quick slap before quickly pulling on a pair of shoes, barreling out the front door. Stiles skips his way upstairs, and it’s really invigorating to be doing so when he’s gone up these stairs dozens of times, only, he was wearing more clothes. And he and Scott hadn’t sucked each other’s dicks yet. Stiles smiles, shaking his head.

Stiles pushes open the door of Scott’s room, and he can’t smell the way Scott does, now, but he recognizes the musky scent of Scott and his body gets warm and excited. Looking at Scott’s made bed, Stiles gets an idea, pulling off his panties and crawling on the bed. He buries his face in the pillows and breathes in Scott, rubbing himself off against the bed, hips rutting a little frantically.

“This is what I want to see when I walk in my room all the time now.”

Stiles’ laughter is muffled, looking over his shoulder.

“You look so fucking hot.” Scott waves a hand. “Like that.”

Stiles spreads his legs a little more, face resting on his arm, smiling shyly at Scott.

“Like what?”

“Naked and ready for me,” Scott says. He toes off his shoes, making quick work of getting his pants off, and he needs to touch Stiles so much right now. “You can smell my scent, right?”

“I can, but not like you can smell mine,” Stiles says a little sadly.

“That’s what was getting you off, though.” Scott walks over to the bed, and Stiles rolls over on his back immediately, and Scott feels like the missing puzzle piece, fitting perfectly between Stiles’ legs. “Why do you smell sad?”

Stiles shrugs a shoulder.

“Stiles--”

“I just wish I could see you, and smell you, and hear you, and feel you the way you do with me.” Stiles looks away feeling embarrassed, because it isn’t about wanting the bite, and it isn’t about wanting to be a werewolf. “I want to know you on that level and I never will.”

Scott leans down and kisses Stiles softly, tenderly, pressing his body into Stiles’, giving him some of his weight; he knows Stiles likes that.

Stiles sighs against Scott’s mouth, kissing his way down his neck now, brushing his nose across his shoulder.

“You smell like my Jeep,” Stiles says.

Scott smiles at that.

“Your Jeep has a _smell_?”

“Yes.” Stiles glares. “And you smell like it,” he says. Stiles lays a hand against Scott’s, linking their fingers together, squeezing hard.

“Stiles.” Scott kisses Stiles’ fingers where they’re joined together. “You do know me on that level. You’re my best friend, and you see me, and you hear me, and you feel me in ways no one else does.”

Stiles smiles at that, gaze flicking up to Scott’s.

“When my temper gets the better of me, you step in and bring me down. That’s how you hear me, Stiles. And your hands…” Scott brings Stiles’ hands up to his face, smiling when Stiles brushes his thumbs over his cheeks. “They touch me constantly. That’s how you feel me, and, you know, you feel me in other ways.”

“Oh, I totally do,” Stiles laughs.

“Shut up,” Scott laughs in return. “My point is, you don’t need wolf powers to know me.”

Stiles kisses Scott hard, tugging him down more on top of him. He wants to bear Scott’s weight. He wants to feel Scott pressing him down into the bed, holding him down--

“Fuck me,” Stiles breathes out.

“Panties?” Scott asks.

“Later,” Stiles gasps when Scott wraps a hand around his cock. “Yeah, later.”

After a few minutes of making out and jerking each other off until they’re both nearly coming, Scott finally gets Stiles on his hands and knees, dying to get his tongue inside Stiles.

Stiles pulls a pillow to him, burying his face in it and moaning when he feels the first hot swipe of Scott’s tongue. _God_ , it always feels so good, and Stiles would stay on his hands and knees forever if it kept Scott’s tongue licking and burying itself inside him. He bites down on Scott’s pillow when Scott pushes in a finger in, the bony knuckle tugging on his rim makes him cry out.

“Oh _fuck_ ,” Stiles whines, reaching back to hold himself open. “More, Scott, more.”

Scott happily obliges, thumbs spreading Stiles open wider, blowing cool air right on Stiles’ hole watching it clench and pucker, sliding a finger in and out. His tongue curls around his finger, his own spit sliding down Stiles’ balls, and his throat aches to feel Stiles’ cock, deepthroating him to make him whine louder.

Stiles’ fingers dig hard into his ass to hold himself open, panting wetly on Scott’s pillow, even drooling a little.

“No more fingers… tongue… your tongue,” Stiles begs.

Scott grins, pushing Stiles’ hand away, hands kneading his ass.

“I kinda like it when you beg,” Scott tells him, adding another finger. “How bad do you want my tongue inside you, Stiles?”

“So much,” Stiles whines, eyes rolling up when Scott’s fingers hit a little deeper.

“Well.” Scott slowly pulls his fingers out, rubbing them over Stiles’ hole. “Since you want it so much.”

Scott’s hands hold Stiles open wide, licking his way up to the cleft of Stiles’ ass, pressing his thumb there until Stiles pushes back, spreading his legs wider. Scott hears himself say _there you go_  but forgets himself when he starts to lick Stiles’ hole, getting his tongue in deep knowing Stiles likes it, knows that Stiles doesn’t want him wasting time. He likes how much Stiles likes this, loves it even. It takes no time before his mouth and chin start getting wet and slippery, unrelenting in his pace, driving his tongue in Stiles’ ass.

“Fu _ck_ ,” Stiles cries out, hiccuping. He’s going to collapse soon, he just knows it, and it’s all from the driving force of his best friend’s tongue, _his boyfriend’s_  tongue, literally making him come undone. Stiles can’t hold himself up on his hands, chest burning, face smushed against Scott’s pillow, wet with drool. Scott won’t stop; Stiles doesn’t want him to.

“Scott, _Scott_ ,” Stiles begs, tears slipping down his face. His hand is wet with come where he’s squeezing his cock, stopping himself from coming, but he _needs_  to come.

Scott groans, rocking into the mattress to put a little friction on his dick. He knows how close Stiles is, he sensed it when Stiles gripping himself, but he refused to stop. But now, Scott needs to fuck Stiles, needs to push his dick deep inside Stiles until he’s got him sobbing.

“Holy shit,” Scott whispers when he pulls away. Stiles’ ass cheeks have bruises from his fingers, and his hole is loose and red, still shiny with saliva.

“Sc--Scott, _please_ \--”

“I am, hang on.” Scott leans down and kisses the back of Stiles’ neck, and then his temple. “Still with me?”

Stiles nods, burying his face in the pillow, his whole body on edge with need and want, and _God_ , he needs Scott to just fuck him already.

Scott tries to be quick, finding a condom and more lube in his nightstand. He’s already fucked Stiles open with his tongue, but he doesn’t want to hurt him, rolling on the condom and slicking himself up.

“Still with me, Stiles?”

Stiles only grunts a response, wiggling his ass at Scott.

Scott laughs, squirting a little bit of lube on Stiles’ ass, rubbing it on him gently.

“Really, _really_  wish you were wearing panties right now,” Scott says, lining himself up, thrusting in slowly. “Fucking… fuck, you feel so good -- God, you wearing panties, Stiles…”

“Tell me,” Stiles says, voiced muffled.

He’s not going to last too long, but he’ll go as long as he can, not being slow at all with his thrusts; Stiles feels too good to go slow. And Scott wants to, he wants to do that -- Stiles on his back under him, those long legs wrapped tight around his hips as he slowly fucks Stiles, his soft, plump lips kissing and biting his shoulder.

Stiles clenches around him, breaking his reverie, and Scott’s holding onto Stiles’ shoulders as he pounds his cock deep inside him.

“Oh god, oh fuck,” Scott pants, “just you, wearing panties.”

Stiles tries to rock back, but he’s limp and fucked out already, moaning loudly when Scott hits just right.

“You should always wear them,” Scott says, leaning down, speaking right in Stiles’ ear. “When you come over, you should already be wearing a pair. And when I come over, you should be putting on a pair for me.”

Stiles whimpers, nodding shakily.

Scott growls against Stiles’ neck, squeezing his ass, hands familiar with the feel of panties being there, and that thought pushes him to release, biting down on Stiles’ shoulder.

This is the first time Stiles comes untouched, tears leaking into the pillow.

*

When Stiles wakes up he’s aware of two things: the pillow under his head isn’t wet, and Scott snoring softly, his head resting on Stiles’ hip. He doesn’t want to wake Scott up, because he looks and sounds really adorable, but he _really_  needs to pee.

Scott grunts a little, nose brushing across Stiles’ hip, blinking his eyes open.

“Hey, buddy,” Stiles says, fingers carding through Scott’s hair.

“Go pee.”

Stiles laughs a little hoarsely, already feeling cold when he pulls away from Scott. He’s still naked, glancing back at Scott and sees that he, too, is still naked. He takes a minute or two to stretch, groaning at the ache in his muscles, his entire body, actually; it’s a good ache, though. Scott must have cleaned them up before they fell asleep, and that thought makes Stiles smile, almost tripping over his Victoria’s Secret bag on the way to the bathroom. He bites his lip, grinning to himself, picking it up and bringing it with him.

Scott’s still snoozing when Stiles comes back, blue polka dot hiphuggers clinging to his hips. He walks around the bed, taking Scott’s hand, slowly dragging Scott’s fingers down his abdomen.

“‘S’going on?” Scott snuffles awake, turning to look at what his hand is touching, and _oh_.

“These are hiphuggers,” Stiles says, trailing Scott’s fingers over his silk covered dick. “What do you think of them?”

“Polka dots,” Scott grins. “C’mere.”

Stiles goes easily, crawling in the warm circle of Scott’s arms, mouth finding its way to Scott’s quickly, moaning into his mouth.

They spend awhile just making out, deep, lazy kisses that make Stiles’s toes curl. Scott’s hands worships Stiles’ ass, kneading and squeezing, and Stiles can tell he likes the silky material.

“Did I pass out?” Stiles asks, pulling away from Scott’s mouth.

“Huh? Oh, oh yeah.” Scott trails his fingers up and down Stiles’ arm. “You cried a little, too.”

“Yeah, I, uh… it was a little intense for me.”

“Good, though?”

“ _The best_ ,” Stiles smiles, pecking him on the mouth. “Just wish I could remember more, afterward. And thanks, for taking care of me.” Stiles bites his lips sheepishly.

“We both enjoyed ourselves, I promise,” Scott says, corner of his mouth quirking a little. “You don’t need to thank me for that.”

“Yeah, actually, I do.” Stiles smiles wider, kissing Scott again. “I drooled on your pillow.”

“Honestly, I don’t care, besides, it was hot. _You_  were hot.”

Stiles ends up back beside Scott, head on his shoulder, Scott’s fingers scratching up and down his back. If Stiles were a cat he’d probably be purring right now.

They’re quiet for a long time until Stiles says--

“You’re my boyfriend.”

“And you’re my boyfriend,” Scott says, hugging him close.

Stiles slides a hand back and forth across Scott’s belly, kissing his shoulder.

“I know what I want for my birthday,” Stiles says against his shoulder, hiding a smile when Scott looks at him.

“If you say birthday sex, well, spoiler alert: birthday sex is happening.”

“Did you just say spoiler alert? You’re spending way too much time with me.”

Scott grins. “More like, you’re rubbing off on me.”

Stiles laughs hard, shoving Scott in the side and then settling back against him.

“I want you to, um, wear panties. For me.” Stiles peeks up at Scott trying to figure out his reaction by the play of emotions on Scott’s face; it’s proving difficult.

“Tell me what you’re thinking right now,” Stiles says.

“Have you -- Have you thought about it… a lot?” Scott finally asks.

“When we started sharing clothes a bit more, especially boxers,” Stiles says, nodding to himself. “Yeah, I’ve thought about it a lot.” He kisses Scott’s shoulder, still watching him closely. “You don’t have to if you don’t--”

“Okay,” Scott cuts in, “I’ll do it.” He can hear the uptick of Stiles’ heart, the quiet thrum of his pulsing racing, and when he looks at Stiles he watches his pupils dilate.

Stiles rolls over on his back pulling Scott on top of him, the warm press of Scott’s body feels good, rubbing himself against Scott a little as he starts kissing him. It doesn’t take long before they’re making out, lips smacking as their kisses get wetter, more insistent. When Stiles feels Scott reaching for his dick he stops him, biting down on his jaw.

“No,” Stiles breathes against Scott’s mouth.

“But--”

Stiles silences Scott with another kiss, fingers circling Scott’s dick, tugging a little to make Scott fuck his hand, grinning when he hears Scott grunt.

“You got me worked up, now it’s my turn,” Stiles says.

It takes no time until Scott is a panting, sweating mess of need, knees digging into the bed on either side of Stiles, fucking into his fist, and Stiles keeps a firm grip on his cock, exactly what he needs right now.

“Like when I do this?” Stiles playfully licks at Scott’s mouth. “Gimme some lube.”

“Pillow,” Scott grits out, vision blurring red.

Stiles grins, reaching around under the pillows.

“Did I inspire you? I did, didn’t I?” Stiles has to pull his hand away, Scott’s growls vibrating off the walls. “Calm down, Alpha Man, I got you.” Stiles wraps a now slippery hand back around Scott, moaning a little at how Scott feels in his hand.

“Fuck, yeah,” Scott groans, his thrusts clumsy, desperate.

Stiles’ thumb teases the slit, smiling smugly when Scott buries his face in his neck, impressed with himself that he can make Scott come undone like this. Not many can, and Stiles wants to be the only one who does.

“C’mon, Scott, I know you want to,” Stiles murmurs against Scott’s mouth.

Scott’s mouth parts with Stiles’ trying to kiss him, but he ends up making a strangled sound, burying his face in Stiles’ neck instead, spilling hot all over his hand.

Stiles lazily strokes Scott through his climax, murmuring words of encouragement in his ear. Scott finally slumps down where he’s lying halfway on Stiles and the bed, catching his breath, while Stiles cleans both of them up with tissues.

“We should shower,” Stiles suggests, dropping the tissues in the trash.

“I should change the sheets on my bed,” Scott says, chuckling.

Stiles hums in agreement, shifting around in a more comfortable position, legs tangling with Scott’s.

“In a minute?” Scott asks.

“Maybe five minutes,” Stiles says, eyes closing with a smile.

*

Scott’s making waffles when Stiles comes down the stairs, and underneath his body wash that Stiles obviously used, Scott picks up Stiles’ scent; it’s oddly comforting. Stiles is also wearing a pair of his pajama bottoms, and Scott likes the way they billow around Stiles’ feet.

“How long you been up?” Stiles asks, hopping up on the counter.

“Not too long.” Scott passes Stiles a plate with two waffles and a fork. “Syrup’s behind you.”

Stiles drenches his waffles, moaning happily at the first bite, quickly stuffing another forkful in his mouth. Scott joins him on the counter, digging into his own waffles. The rumble of the washing machine and their happy-waffle-eating-noises fill up the silence between them.

“Do you want me to wear a pair of yours?” Scott asks, breaking the silence.

At first Stiles has no idea what Scott means, until--

“I have a pair in mind, but I’m not gonna show until the big day.”

Scott smiles at that, sliding off the counter, walking over to the refrigerator.

“You still, uh, staying over?” Scott asks.

Stiles tilts his head, taking the glass of milk Scott’s holding out to him.

“Do you still want me to?”

“It’s almost eight.” Scott drinks half his milk. “Yeah, I do. I really do”

Stiles calls his dad to let him know while Scott takes care of the laundry, smiling a little as he watches him. When he hangs up Scott’s right there, pulling him into a kiss. Stiles sighs into his mouth, fingers curling in Scott’s hair, pressing close.

Scott licks at the lingering taste of syrup on Stiles’ lips and tongue, kissing him deeper. He pulls back a little, staring at Stiles’ mouth.

“You’re wearing them, right?”

Stiles nods, forehead bumping against Scott’s.

“Hey,” Stiles says, tightening his arms around Scott. “You’re being weird, what’s wrong?

“I don’t know -- I’m, I just,” Scott stumbles over his words, but he finds his bearings quickly. “My wolf, it’s just… and I feel--” Scott kisses Stiles, hands cradling his face, digging a thumb into the corner of Stiles’ mouth, panting heavily.

“I know, Scott.” Stiles smiles at him.

Scott returns the smile.

“I’m glad you’re here, and my wolf is content. We’re both content, and I haven’t felt like this in a long time.”

“You getting mushy on me, Scotty?” Stiles teases, making a grab for Scott. “I’m happy, like, really happy.”

Scott’s nose bumps against Stiles’ when he kisses him, and he’ll never get tired of kissing Stiles, and the soft sigh Stiles gives him.

“Come on,” Scott says, tugging on Stiles’ hand. “We need to flip the couch cushions, and I want to hear more about your birthday plans for me.”

“Wait, why are we flipping the couch cushions?”

“I don’t need my mom seeing the jizz evidence.”

Stiles nods after a beat.

“Fair enough.”

Later on, after they’ve watched _Terminator 2_  for what Stiles feels is the one-hundredth time, he rolls over on Scott, shifting around until he’s comfortable.

“How do you feel about sex toys?” Stiles asks.

Scott swallows on his spit, coughing and choking, trying to get his breath back.

Stiles continues to grin mischievously.

“I’ve never used any,” Scott says hoarsely, squinting at Stiles. “Why…?”

Stiles scoots his way slowly up Scott’s body, kissing his neck, and then his jaw, nipping his chin, grinning down at him.

“This will be a birthday neither of us will forget for a _long_  time,” Stiles promises.

**Author's Note:**

> As always my undying gratitude to [Mel](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mumblo/) for looking this over. <3
> 
> Part 4 is already weeding its way into my brain. Maybe for Christmas I will treat you all with some sex toys.
> 
> Me on [Tumblr](http://ionsquare.tumblr.com/), come say hi! :)


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